<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Steady by DistantStorm</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23157283">Steady</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantStorm/pseuds/DistantStorm'>DistantStorm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars: Rebels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:46:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23157283</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantStorm/pseuds/DistantStorm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zeb had always stood tall. Unwavering, even.</p>
<p>But sometimes, lately, when he thought all eyes had looked away, Kallus saw that sparkle leave his eyes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Steady</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <a href="https://thedistantstorm.tumblr.com/post/612669802738286592/can-we-see-sasha-comforting-zeb-most-folks-have">Inspired by this lovely art.</a>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Zeb had always stood tall. Unwavering, even.</p>
<p>But sometimes, lately, when he thought all eyes had looked away, Kallus saw that sparkle leave his eyes. Saw his shoulders round in, ever so slightly. He always pulled himself up, tightly wound like a bowstring the moment he noticed, casting sweeping glances the second he realized he’d started to unravel.</p>
<p>The first time, Kallus had politely looked away as if he’d never seen anything. Let Garazeb have some dignity, he thought. It had only been a trying few weeks since returning from Lothal. Of the original Spectres, only he, Hera, and Chopper remained. </p>
<p>The second, he’d waited too long, Zeb’s eyes - a cross between storm-lightning yellow and jungle green - met his, and the Lasat’s expression darkened. It wasn’t directed at Kallus, though. The resignation and embarrassment and frustration were obvious indicators of a warrior’s pride that flashed with self-depreciating fury that he attempted to disguise as fury related to the briefing they stood in. Kallus schooled his expression into something brisk and aloof, lest he draw Hera’s attention. She was facing him, after all, with Zeb standing behind her. He loomed over her like a shadow. A guard. </p>
<p>That was how it had been, these days. Hera was a wreck, having just found out she was expecting, having lost Kanan, and likely Ezra as well. It was easier to hope, Kallus supposed, that the young would-be Jedi were alive. Kallus himself had long since grown accustomed to harboring his hurts, his grief close to the chest, cradling it deep down but not letting it own him.</p>
<p>But Zeb’s emotions lingered, simmering just beneath the surface.</p>
<p>Hera turned back, looking up at the Lasat after something one of the other generals had said, her eyes dull and tired. Zeb smiled - this one was convincing, betraying only a sympathetic hint of wary exhaustion, Kallus thought, surprised - and squeezed her hand before gesturing to the door. Whatever Zeb saw in her eyes that he could not, must have been serious enough to warrant their dismissal from the briefing. </p>
<p>No one questioned their leaving. Mon Mothma’s eyes hadn’t even narrowed. In fact, she seemed to be handling this far better than he’d expected, all things considered. Though, Ezra had managed to take Thrawn Force knows where, and he’d been the largest thorn in their side for more than a year now. The rest of these fools were textbook. The Rebel Alliance would easily manipulate them like puppets when they come. And, more than that, Hera had returned. She was the leader. She was the idealist. The rest of her crew were, well, Kallus wouldn’t call them indispensable simply due to personal bias, but he understood command from both sides. It was why several eyes went to him, expecting him to bridge the gap in addition to his own duties. He was a Spectre these days in all but name. </p>
<p>He found Zeb, afterward. It wasn’t difficult. Hera had lain down, no doubt plagued by some pregnancy ailment that had caused her to leave the meeting, but Zeb stood outside the Ghost’s open ramp, leaning against the underbelly of the jewel-shaped ship in the shade.</p>
<p>“Lemme guess,” He said, seeing Kallus approach. “They want you to brief us on whatever we’ve missed.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Kallus answered politely.</p>
<p>“Because clearly,” The Lasat clenched his fists, then remembered himself and forced them loose, “Nothing came up, and we walked out for nothing.”</p>
<p>Holding his hands up in a token of peace - or surrender, neither of them is sure which - Kallus inclined his head. “That isn’t why I’m here, though.”</p>
<p>“Then why?” The words came like a snarl. He doesn’t mean it, it’s obvious from the way that his fur became prickly at the neck, the way he recoiled inwardly at himself unable to sustain his hostile posture.</p>
<p>Kallus looks around first, not obviously because he’s had ample training, but he takes his time, waits Zeb out for a moment before speaking. “How are you doing, Zeb?”</p>
<p>“I’m fine.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Kallus lifted one eyebrow. “Now answer me like I haven’t just psycho-analyzed your body language.”</p>
<p>“You’ve done what?”</p>
<p>The ex-agent pointed to his chest. “I was ISB for over a decade, Garazeb. I’m trained to see beyond facades.” And then, when that sounded too cold, too impersonal to him, he continues quietly, “You’re hurting.”</p>
<p>“I AM NOT!”</p>
<p>Prickly was an apt word before, but now it matched more than the tufts of purple fur standing on end on the back of his neck and arms. Now, he looked like he was about to pounce at Kallus, like Kallus had just insulted him gravely.</p>
<p>In a way, Kallus supposed, he had. Garazeb saw this as pity, just as Kallus himself had interpreted the actions of those around him upon his rescue from the Chimaera what felt like several lifetimes ago and yesterday, all at once.</p>
<p>“I do not pity you, Garazeb Orrelios. In fact,” Despite his reservations at being so transparent, dealing with Zeb at this level of heightened emotional distress begged it. This was not a time secret meanings or word puzzles. “You are one of the strongest beings I know.”</p>
<p>It seemed, at the time, to be the right thing to say, and each word had come straight from the heart. Zeb seemed to know it, too. It seems to take the fight out of his stance like a physical blow. “You’re a real bastard, y'know that?” </p>
<p>“I know,” Kallus agreed. “But someone needs to tell you it’s alright not to be alright all the time.”</p>
<p>“Funny,” Zeb said, “I remember tellin’ you something similar.”</p>
<p>“Seems we’re both a bit stubborn,” He supposed. “But you were right, then.” His mind flickered through thoughts of a dark room and a blanket around his shoulders, and a hulking Lasat that sat quietly beside him, waiting him out for hours until he’d finally sank to one knee before him and told him it wasn’t wrong to mourn things, even if he didn’t want to or understand why. “And I’m here for you now.” That earns him a wild-eyed blink. Something woefully surprised seeming to break loose inside of him. With courage he doesn’t feel, Kallus offers, “I can be strong for us both, for a while,” And holds out his arms.</p>
<p>Zeb doesn’t remember moving, nor does he think Kallus had taken three steps forward between one blink and the next. And yet, somehow, there he is, arms wrapped around Kallus’s middle, hands at the small of his back. For an enemy, being this close to Zeb would be terrifying, but there is something steady about Kallus, here and now. Like roots of a tree, keeping Zeb grounded in a storm. </p>
<p>His posture bowed. </p>
<p>Kallus took the weight - metaphorical, physical - and does not so much as sway with it as he continued to take it all. Human hands trail up velvet-furred cheeks, smoothing the twitch and flattening of inhuman ears. “I've got you.”</p>
<p>Any arguments Zeb considered were washed away as those hands trailed behind his ears and to the crown of his head, one cradling him while the other slid down to the space between his shoulders. A seamless motion guided Zeb to press his face against Kallus’s chest, face pressed in the gap where his jacket hung open. He exhaled, rough, adding to the human’s natural warmth, his sensitive ears suddenly aware of the steady lull of Kallus’s heartbeat.</p>
<p>His grip on the human tightened, without him realizing it. Kallus took that too, holding him closer, though careful not to smother. Zeb didn’t cry, he was stronger than that, he insisted to himself. He just... trembled. Only a little. </p>
<p>He did cry, though, because tears dotted Kallus’s shirt when he pulled back, after what felt like an eternity and also never long enough. His face was wet. Hera would take one look at them, and she would know and he didn’t want her to. Not now. It was too soon. He had to be strong for her. For all of them. He had to-</p>
<p>But Kallus simply reached up, thumbs brushing gently across his cheeks, wiping away any evidence of tears from Zeb’s face, before he zipped up his jacket and took those for him, too.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>